"You have been approved, Dune. You have earned our trust for now, sand cat. You are now an official enemy to King Maximilian Acorn and Mobotropolis," rasped Jiles.

Dune sat up from his cot and smiled, "Good."

With that, the ancient rat called the guards in to the tent and had the sand cat released from his shackles.

Dune grasped at his sore wrists and followed the rat outside into the biting sun – pulling his hat down low over his eyes, 'Close... Much too close,' thought the sand cat as he was lead by Jiles towards the tent he would share with Nack. Jiles however, turned on his heels towards Dune before they entered and spoke,"A few rules... Of the camp, before we depart, feline. You're not allowed in the armory, near the council tent, and until we are sure of your... intentions, you will be kept under a watchful eye, is that understood?" spoke the rat with his dusty voice.

Dune nodded, "Yeah... Yes, I understand."

With this, the rat smiled the most unsettling smile Dune had ever seen – Jiles' upper lip seemed to crook upward and all around into something that resembled a smile, but at the same time made the sand cat feel like he was staring at a monster.

"Good," the rat wheezed.

Jiles stepped aside and let Dune enter the brownish canvas tent. Inside, Nack was laying on his cot with a leg propped up on his knee and his hat over his face, "they finally letcha out did they?" asked the weasel – his voice slightly muffled through his hat. The sand cat sighed and ran his hands over his face for a moment, "Yeah... Spending a day in the smallest tent of my life was fun. Seems like they're okay with me, though I'm curious as to why they had no problem letting you come right in, Nack," Dune finished with an annoyed inflection.

Nack hopped up off his cot and shrugged, "Hey, if you're gonna be a good spy you gotta have a good rapport with the underworld, ya get me? Look, I bin' doin' this a lot longer than you have, kid – yeah it sucks you got tossed in the tiny tent for awhile, but hey they bought it right?" Dune stammered for a moment before Nack interjected, "So... Lighten up! Listen, me and my sis did some bounty huntin' off and on, I got kinduva name for myself doin' it, alright? Besides, that's all this really is, ain't it? We're just doin' this to get a little bit of cash in pockets – we just got different bosses."

"I'm not -" started Dune loudly, but stopped himself after remembering Jiles words about him being under watch and brought his voice lower, "I'm not doing this for money... or a cause... or for anyone else. I'm doing this because I made a deal with Acorn that if I would do this, he would give me everything he has and knows about Aaamaal."

'That and there's St. John's lackies keeping an eye on me, making sure I play along,' left out Dune.

Nack narrowed his eyes at Dune and scratched his jaw, "Sounds like a dud deal, Duney boy," stated the weasel as he hopped back onto his cot. Dune put his hands on his hips, shook his head, and lay down on his cot.

After an hour or so of staring at the flickering candle in their tent, Dune spoke up again, "What do you know about who the 'council' guys are?", he asked. Nack sat up on his cot and faced the sand cat with his fang-toothed grin, "Okay, you've got Boe Jack, a jack rabbit who leads a clan of really tough warriors that use spears or javelins or somethin'. There ain't a whole lot of'em, but even I wouldn't wanna mess with'em. Those guys are serious business. Boe is cool as a cucumber, but he's ruthless. He was onutha first guys to follow the mutual friend. After Boe Jack, you got Jiles Mesquite, the old as dirt rat you were talkin' to a minute or two ago. He runs a big gang of really well-trained guys called 'blademen' – you had a lil' run in with'em when we first got here an' you better be lucky I stopped you from stickin' that little cheese knife in one of'em or else Jiles never woulda let you in. Now, I digress Duney boy, I can't say I know much 'bout the rat other than he's old, creepy, and there's somethin' slippery 'bout him. Last, but no where near least, we got Gunnar. He's the chief of a tribe of exiled echidnas – why are they exiled? 'Cuz they use Overlander tech: cars an' guns, 'cept they call those hunks a junk 'badlanders'. Gunnar's a real ragin' bull an' he don't seem to like you so far, so I'd stay away from'im."

Dune felt the left side of his mouth tighten as he asked, "Overlanders?"

"Yeah, human beens. There was this nasty war a long long time ago where some ancestor of Acorn accidentally got plugged by an Overlander – so, the grand majestic Acorn family ruled no Mobians be allowed to use Overlander weapons. For some reason, this group of echidnas used it anyway and got exiled, therefore we get Gunnar and his group, make sense, Duney boy?"

"I... Suppose so," stated Dune trying to remember everything."Great, awesome, fantastic... C'mon Dune, you're always keepin' us up with questions, let's get some freakin' sleep," grumbled the weasel as he pinched the flame out on the candle.

-

Gunnar slammed his fist on his table in the private quarters of his tent. Bullets scattered and rolled on the surface and fell into the sand. He swore under his breath and cursed Boe and Jiles. The angry echidna bent over and collected the bullets out of the sand and set them back on his table. He unholstered his pistol and lay it on the table. After removing his belt and holster that hung on his hip, he threw off his worn leather armor off his chest, over his head away from his tied back dreads, and tossed it to the side of his cot. He paced his room a moment with his fingers to his chin before calling one of his exiles into the tent."Bring me Commander Delai-Li, I've got a job for her..." demanded Gunnar.

The exile nodded and double-timed out of the tent.

'The rest of those idiots may have their own fools watching that cat, but I've got to put someone I can trust with this,' thought Gunnar.

A few minutes later, a violet-colored female echidna entered the tent, "Yes, Chief Gunnar?"The chief echidna turned towards her and smiled, "Ah, Commander Delai-Li... Have you heard of the recent addition to our ranks?" he asked. Delai-Li shook her head, her dread locks swaying lightly, "No, sir, I hadn't."

"Nack the weasel and... a friend of his. It seems that clumsy and incompetent freelancer brought in a rookie. He looks green, but he's not a push-over. My gut tells me that something isn't right with him. Tomorrow, take him away from the camp and train him with pistols and how to drive our badlanders. Watch him, see what he does, then report back to me after you're done, is that clear, Commander Delai-Li?"

The violet echidna closed her eyes and bowed her head, "Of course, Chief Gunnar."

"Good, now, dismissed," he beckoned her away with a wave.

Delai-Li bowed and left Gunnars tent.

After a few moments of being left to himself, the Chief echidna poured himself a cup of amber liquid and drank it slowly - the drink leaving a burning sweetness in his throat, tossing his cup to the sand where it landed with a dull thud.

"Give me a reason to gut you, boy... I'm waiting..." mumbled the echidna to himself with slurred smile.